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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614402">Company Manners</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/pseuds/ConceptaDecency'>ConceptaDecency</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:48:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/pseuds/ConceptaDecency</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak's got a long history of frosty behaviour to Julian's 'bed friends'. But when he's rude to Data, Julian decides it's time to do something about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julian Bashir/Data, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>205</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am one of the organisers of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/justintimefest/profile">Star Trek: Just in Time Fest</a>, an all Star Trek, all media fan fest speculating on the role of TIME in Star Trek. Any work that can remotely be linked to the theme of 'time' is welcome!</p><p>Taking submissions from now until 8 February 2021.</p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/justintimefest/profile">more information</a></p><p>  <a href="https://startrekjustintime.tumblr.com">Just In Time Tumblr</a></p><p>I hope you'll consider participating!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Julian didn't realise somebody was standing behind him until everyone’s gaze drifted upwards. Miles’. Keiko’s. Even Data’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Must be Garak. The only person on the station (aside from Odo) capable of sneaking up on Julian’s augmented hearing — even though even he (presumably)(hopefully) didn't know about <em>that</em>. But still, Garak somehow managed to do it frequently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doctor!" The voice confirmed the identity, and Julian pretended to be startled. “Chief, Professor.” Garak continued the syrupy greeting around the table, nodding at each person as he addressed them, only pausing at Data to give a fishy stare and a nearly undetectable ‘hmmmm’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Garak." Julian replied, grimacing, as Garak stepped into view and stood, hands behind his back, over their table. The smile he had pasted across his face was as fake as an honours degree in Social Justice from Ferenginar University of Excellence. “Have you met Lieutenant Commander Data, from the Enterprise? Data, this is Garak. He runs-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A small clothing and tailoring business, just there, on the Promenade.” Garak waved a bored hand in the direction of his shop, the bright sign of which was just barely visible from their table in Quark's. “If you should be in need of any sartorial services while you’re on Deep Space Nine. Are you planning a long visit, Commander?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mr Garak. I do not anticipate having any such requirements, but I will keep your establishment in mind,” said Data. Julian noticed that Garak, normally so self-effacing, did not bother to correct Data on the ‘Mr’. Well, that was typical, wasn’t it, in these situations? “And to answer your question, no I am not planning a long visit. The Enterprise is scheduled to depart tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see!” Garak tsked, a human habit he’d picked up from Julian. “One night only. What a pity your stay’s to be so short.” His voice dripped false concern. “I do hope you manage to find some pleasant way to pass the time while you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It is unfortunate for the crew that our shore leave has been curtailed. However I am grateful to have the chance to see the O’Briens and Julian, even if it is only for a short time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m sure you are.” Garak clapped a hand on Julian’s shoulder and squeezed. “Doctor Bashir makes for such enjoyable company, wouldn’t you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian sighed. “Would you like to join us, Garak?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miles shot Julian a <em>what the fuck</em> look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Doctor, but I wouldn’t dream of intruding further on your double date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garak, it’s not...” Julian trailed off. He’d been about to say it wasn’t a double date, but was that right? His relationship with Data was complicated, and if he’d got it wrong and he and Data were on a date, it would be terribly rude to deny it in public. Hurtful, in fact. Even if Data <em>didn’t</em> have emotions. On the other hand, if they weren’t on a date, and he didn't correct Garak, he’d have some explaining to do to Miles and Keiko later. Well. Miles and Keiko would understand, he supposed. But why Did Garak have to be like this? “...a problem. If you’d like to join us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please join us, Garak,” said Keiko, pushing a few empty plates to the centre of the table to clear a place between herself and Data.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be most gratifying if you joined us, Mr Garak.” Data shifted his seat closer to Julian's to make space (Garak’s eyes narrowed at this). “We have been discussing Professor Ishikawa’s research into Bajoran sex pollen. I would be interested to hear your opinion on the matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miles was conspicuously silent and unhelpful. He took a sip of his raktajino and all but glared at Garak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garak gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Oh, my, Commander. As a Cardassian and simple tailor I’m afraid I’d have very little to contribute on the subject. I merely wished to say hello.” Garak’s hand had not left Julian’s shoulder, and it gave another little squeeze. “After all, Doctor, we haven’t had a chance to meet properly in several weeks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sorry about that, Garak.” Julian genuinely was sorry. But it was hardly his fault that he’d been on a three-week away mission, followed immediately by a surprise visit from the Enterprise, which had necessitated a rescheduling of today's planned lunch with Garak. “But we are still having lunch tomorrow, aren’t we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I certainly hope so, Doctor. I have a number of things to say about your Moby Dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And so I will leave all of you to your lunches. A pleasure to meet you, Commander Data.” Garak gave a stiff bow and, with another tight squeeze to Julian’s shoulder, was off as spectrally and silently as he’d arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good riddance,” said Miles, darkly, to Garak’s retreating back. “That prick. Who does he think he is, treating you like that, Julian?” Keiko put a cautioning hand on her husband’s arm, but it was clear from her silence that she agreed, if not quite so vehemently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Miles,” said Julian. It wasn’t, actually, far from it, but Miles was always far too harsh on Garak. Julian felt torn between defending Garak to Miles and apologising for him to Data. He sighed. Was it too much to ask that all the people he cared about at least be civil to one another? “I’m sorry about Garak, Data. He’s a good friend, but he can be spectacularly rude sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miles snorted but held his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is quite all right, Julian. I was not offended.” Of course he wasn’t. Data <em>couldn’t</em> be offended. It didn’t make it alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at the time,” said Keiko. “We have to go or Molly will certainly have worn out her welcome at the Petersens’.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh feck, you’re right,” said Miles, who seemed relieved. He quaffed the remains of his coffee and they both stood. “We’ll see you two at ours for dinner, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nineteen hundred hours,” Julian confirmed, and the O’Briens were off, leaving Julian and Data to the dregs of their post-meal beverages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Julian, as I said, I was not offended by Mr Garak, but I did wish to clarify one thing he said. I was not under the impression we were on a date. I hope that I am not mistaken in this matter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank god. I was going to ask you the same thing. No, I didn’t think we were on a date either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am glad we are in agreement. The issue could be somewhat complicated due to our sexual history.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I suppose so. But we did agree last time that we would be friends with benefits, and I’m still happy with that arrangement if you are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. I would be agreeable to continuing our arrangement into the foreseeable future.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Julian gave Data his most charming smile of seduction (even though he wasn’t certain how effective it was on Data, it certainly helped to get *Julian* in the mood) and placed his hand on Data’s. It was warm, like a human hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have finished your drink, Julian,” said Data, shifting his hand so that their fingers were interlaced. “Do you wish to commence our sexual encounter?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes, that’d be lovely.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent. I believe the pertinent question, then, is ‘my place or yours?’”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There really aren't enough fics with Data on DS9, given that he is canonically good friends with the O'Briens, so I decided to write one. Data was trickier than I thought to write, though. </p><p>I hope you'll leave a comment or a kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Data and Julian have some alone time, and spend it in an odd way.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Julian.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmmmm? Yes?” Julian forced himself into full consciousness. He did like to cuddle and snooze with a partner after sex, but his time alone with Data was limited. Dinner with the O’Briens was in a few hours, and as much as Julian loved Miles and Keiko and enjoyed the group dynamic the four of them had, the rapport he felt with Data when it was just the two of them was something unique. With Data, conversation and mutual understanding was on another plane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope this is not an inappropriate time to discuss your friend Mr Garak.” Data squeezed Julian’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were spooned together, naked save for a sheet, in Julian's bed. Many would consider it an inappropriate time to discuss another man, but Julian didn’t mind if Data didn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine,” he said into the nape of Data’s neck. Data’s hair had the most remarkable smell. Light and sweet and floral. Or was it his shampoo? Did Data use shampoo? Julian made a mental note to ask later. ”What about him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you and Mr Garak ever had a relationship of a romantic or sexual nature?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, of course. They were usually a bit less direct, but Julian was used to questions like this from lovers. The way Garak acted towards anyone he saw Julian with! Like a jealous ex. Or worse, like a jealous partner. As if he had a claim on Julian.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, we haven’t. But I know why you're asking. I have no idea why he behaves like that, Data.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do not?” Data rolled and shifted so that he was facing Julian. His brow was furrowed in a remarkable display of confusion. “Julian, does your position as Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine not require that you have some familiarity with Cardassian cultural mores and practices?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, no, it's not that. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s displaying interest in me by acting like a jealous prick.” That would have been crystal clear even without the required Starfleet cultural awareness training. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah. Then why do you say you do not know why he behaves like that?" The words from another person might have been prying or confrontational, but Data's manner, like everything about Data, was only gentle and politely inquisitive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I suppose because he's never tried to take it any further. He's flirtatious when it's just the two of us, and he acts like a possessive idiot when he sees me with someone else, like today with you, but he's never actually, you know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>made a move</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Julian caressed Data's arm. "And, again, I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry, Data, really. I can’t apologise enough." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Julian, it is not your fault," said Data. "But I am curious. Have you told him that you do not welcome his attention?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. Well, I mean, I've told him off about speaking to people like he spoke to you, but I've never told him I don't welcome his attention, because I...do, actually. Welcome his attention. I don't like it when he's rude to my friends, but I...like him." Julian wondered if he’d gone too far. It was one thing to talk about other men during a post-coital cuddle. It was quite another to admit to the person who’d just brought you to an incredibly satisfying orgasm that you quite fancied someone else. “Sorry, Data. We can change the subject."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Julian, if you would like to change the subject because you no longer wish to discuss Mr Garak, I am happy to do so. However, if you have suggested it in order to preserve my feelings, may I remind you that I cannot feel jealousy. In fact, I find the topic quite fascinating.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sure. I also believe that I may be able to help you with your problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not exactly a problem…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it not?” Data’s question was sincere. “You say you cannot dissuade Mr Garak from being rude to your sexual partners and that you enjoy being the subject of his attention, and that you ‘like’ him, a euphemism which in this context I believe means you have fond romantic feelings for him. The obvious solution would be for you and Mr Garak to enter into a relationship, and yet you have not. Am I mistaken in believing that this is a problematic situation for you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm. I suppose if you put it that way, it is.” Of course it was a problem. Julian wasn’t sure why he’d insisted it wasn’t. He supposed he’d just got used to it and started seeing it as less of a problem and more of another annoying facet of his life that had to be dealt with. Data certainly had a way of clarifying things. It was one of his most appealing traits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought so. I have observed that humans do not usually enjoy the experience of ‘liking’ someone indefinitely without eventually reaching some sort of favourable resolution with the object of their affection.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Well, that’s only sort of true. It can actually be very nice, sometimes, to have a bit of a crush on someone that never goes anywhere.” Julian paused. “Although…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would it be presumptuous of me to presume that you are no longer enjoying ‘having a crush’ on Mr Garak?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, no. Yes.” Was he? “I mean, I like the feeling I get when I see him or spend time with him.” Or think about him. “But you’re right. The fact that he hasn’t made a move yet is frustrating.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By 'make a move' I assume you are referring to initiating the next step in a courtship ritual, and that Mr Garak has failed to do so."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Exactly." Julian sighed. "All he does is flirt outrageously with me when we're together and act like a jealous idiot when he sees me with someone else. It’s confusing. And frustrating. He’s just not...” Julian searched for the right words. “I don’t know if it’s him or me. He’s giving me the signs that he’s interested. I think. But then, nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmmm.” Data paused, and blinked his golden eyes. “And you believe that you are interpreting these signs correctly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fairly certain I am. I’ve, ah, checked. With people who know Cardassians. Major Kira, Quark. Odo. Do you know, other Cardassians who’ve visited the station have assumed we’re together? It’s happened several times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I was not aware of that, Julian. But that fact would seem to indicate a strong intention towards you. And yet you say he has not ‘made a move’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. And I’m certain of</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> too. I’ve read up on it. If he wanted a relationship of some sort there’s a kind of custom. He’s meant to offer me a particular kind of gift, and...well, it’s complicated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if he wanted something other than a relationship?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean just sex? If he wanted sex he’d just proposition me. Apparently that bit’s similar to how humans do it. And believe me, he’s had his chance.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Many</span>
  </em>
  <span> chances. Julian had been convinced on several occasions that Garak had been about to invite him to his quarters or the holosuite for some ‘enjoyable company’ — he was now well aware of the significance of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> phrase, given it was so common a euphemism for no-strings-attached sex in Kardasi that it had appeared in many of the books Garak had given him to read. But aside from their very first meeting, at which Garak had, Julian now knew, been shockingly forward by Cardassian standards, and at which Julian had, unfortunately, not yet been particularly well-versed in Cardassian culture, the invitation had never been repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. But, if you are interested in him and he has not propositioned you or initiated a courtship ritual, why do you not simply 'make a move' yourself?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well.” Julian rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s Cardassian.” It was difficult to put into words precisely why he had been waiting for Garak to take action. There were so many reasons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am afraid I do not understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess it’s not just that he’s Cardassian. But him being Cardassian leads to complications.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Such as?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The thing is, Data, I've read up on Cardassian courtship rituals. They’re intricate, but they’re also pretty unalterable. You can’t really deviate from them even a little bit, or the whole courtship might be ended then and there. Because I’m younger than Garak by a fair bit, I’m supposed to be the passive party. He’s meant to set the pace. So since he hasn’t done anything in, well, ever, I have to assume that there's some reason he's holding back."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah. Do you have some theories as to what this reason might be?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yes.” Several theories, few of them encouraging. The matter was the cause of more than a few sleepless nights, as a matter of fact. “For one thing, he’s a man.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And so am I. According to the literature, Cardassians frown on same-sex relationships.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is true. However, same-sex relationships are not forbidden, and as Mr Garak is openly displaying interest in you, even in front of other Cardassians, it is logical to conclude that the fact that you are both men is unlikely to be a problem for him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>True. Julian had thought the same thing himself. It felt good to hear it confirmed by Data, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There's also the fact that I'm human. Cardassians frown on inter-species relationships, too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I believe my point about Mr Garak's obvious public display of interest in you applies in this case as well."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. You know, that's a very good point." Julian smiled. "Data, you really have a way of clarifying difficult problems."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you, Julian. I am glad you feel that way. I have learned that it is often helpful to discuss interpersonal problems with a third party."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So what do you think I should do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So far you have only described Mr Garak's actions towards you. It is my understanding that in successful courtships, all concerned parties must signal their interest in some way. Have you let Mr Garak know that you are interested in him?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh! Yes, I have. At least I think I have. For Cardassians the main thing is arguing, I think. I mean, arguing in a sort of, provocative way. Disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing, you know, even if you don’t really mean it. So I pretend not to like his favourite characters in books, his favourite foods. Things like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But this has not worked." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you certain that Mr Garak knows that you are attempting to indicate reciprocal interest in him, rather than simply disagreeing?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think so. No, you know, I’m actually pretty certain he knows. You know, because the other Cardassians think we’re a couple. I must be doing it right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Julian, Mr Garak’s interest in you seems obvious. If you are indeed being very clear in reciprocating that interest, his motive for not pursuing you, and yet indicating strong displeasure when you choose to spend your time romantically or sexually with others, is puzzling.” Data had furrowed his brow. “Have you simply asked Mr Garak why he does not pursue you further?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Simply asked him?” It was something Julian had imagined. Usually in the shower. Going up to Garak and just laying bare the evidence that Garak in fact liked him </span>
  <em>
    <span>an awful lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> and demanding to know why Garak wasn’t doing anything about it. But. “Wouldn’t that be...rather direct? Especially by Cardassian standards.” Not to mention, wouldn’t the possible outcome of Garak denying his attraction outright and laughing in Julian’s face, or worse, giving him one of those pitying, condescending looks and a pat on the hand, simply tear apart Julian’s pride, not to mention his heart? And possibly their friendship?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Data tilted his head. “Perhaps it would,” he said. “You are better informed about Cardassian courtship practices than I am. But if you and Mr Garak are indeed at the impasse that you have described to me, and if you are unhappy, then your only two options are to do nothing, and continue to be frustrated with Mr Garak’s behaviour, or to ‘make a move’ of some kind yourself and hope that that changes the situation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It could make the situation worse. Or it could drive him away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those are possibilities, it is true. You would have to decide if you were willing to risk such an outcome. Do you think either is likely?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Julian bit his lip. That was the question, wasn’t it? “For Cardassians, it’s incredibly off-putting for the younger person to pursue the older.” The very thought of Garak being </span>
  <em>
    <span>put off</span>
  </em>
  <span> by something he’d done made Julian feel sickly, deeply, unbearably disappointed in himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Julian,” said Data.”</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are not Cardassian. And yet Mr Garak seems to ‘like’ you, in the colloquial sense that we have established, in spite of this fact. Perhaps even because of it. Does it not stand to reason that, if he is indeed interested in you, he might be prepared to overlook breaches of Cardassian etiquette?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yes, I’d thought of that,” said Julian. Several times, in fact. Even gone so far once or twice as to face himself in the mirror and talk himself into finally doing something about it. And decided to do it. And then talked himself out of it, usually before he’d put twenty metres between himself and his quarters. “Do you think I have a chance?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is always a chance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Data was right. Of course Data was right. “But Data. If I’m wrong. If he isn’t interested. I don’t know what I’d do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fear of rejection is a very human trait,” Data said. “It is natural that you would be trepidatious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet you think I have a chance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A good chance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As I said, that is for you to decide, Julian.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmmmm. Fair enough.” He wasn’t really being fair to Data. In more ways than one. Here he had this beautiful being, gentle and kind and special as anything, a guest in his bed, and he’d spent the last precious fifteen minutes crying in his arms over another man. Appalling behaviour. Julian was better than this. Garak had waited long enough, and he could wait a few hours more. Julian brushed Data’s forehead with his lips and wondered how it felt, to be Data. Did a kiss feel the same for Data as it felt for Julian when Data kissed him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whether it did or not, Data was a very good kisser. Julian was the luckiest man in the world to have these few hours with him. He brought his thumb and forefinger to Data’s smooth chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“However, Julian, if I were in your position, I would feel, as they say in poker, that I had been dealt a good hand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would?” Julian had been about to close the gap between his mouth and Data’s, but he paused. “You mean my chances with Garak?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. If I were you, I would not wait for Mr Garak to ‘make a move’. I would make the next move myself. I believe there is sufficient evidence to conclude that Mr Garak ‘likes’ you, and that your advances would be welcomed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would?” Julian repeated. “You do?” To have Data state it so plainly was extremely convincing. Of course! Of course. Data was exactly right. Julian should have approached Garak ages ago. It was as good as fact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” said Data. “And what is more, I believe you have far more to gain than you have to lose should we be mistaken.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t think he would want to stop being my friend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that is very unlikely. I believe the most probable outcome in the eventuality that Mr Garak does not welcome your advances would simply be that he stops the very behaviour that you find unpleasant. In such a scenario, we might assume that he is not aware that his actions are causing you to think that he is attracted to you, and once informed of the fact, he will not wish to continue to give you any further reason to believe it. Thus, your best course of action would be to tell Mr Garak that you understand him to ‘like’ you, and that you reciprocate his feelings and would like to initiate the next level of courtship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Simple as that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I believe so. I have observed that many matters of this nature are complicated by both parties being reluctant to voice their true feelings, but that as soon as one of them does so, the situation is often resolved.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. When you put it that way. “Thank you, Data.” He was going to do it. He knew it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are welcome, Julian.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But.” Julian was torn. “Data, you know how Cardassians are. Very monogamous. If I did get together with Garak, you and I probably couldn’t do </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore.” He sort of inclined his head, as much as he was able, downwards at their naked bodies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be a pity, Julian. I would certainly miss this aspect of our relationship. The sexual exploration has been most enlightening. But I hope we would continue to be friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely! Our relationship is far more than just sex,” Julian said, though, should anything go ahead with Garak, he would certainly miss the sex with Data. But to be with Garak? If that was the price, Julian would be happy to pay it. Much as he enjoyed having a wide variety of visitors to his bed, Julian appreciated that for some people monogamy was non-negotiable. And in any case, he’d been monogamous before, for Felix, and for Palis, and had found that, for the right partner, it was not an onerous demand at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not with him yet, though,” Julian purred, hooking a leg around one of Data’s and pulling their lower bodies closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you are not.” Data, programmed to perceive and respond to the slightest sensory input from a sex partner, melted fully into Julian, warm and pliant, soft as butter, so convincing in his programming and yet just barely not-human enough to be utterly enthralling. Julian felt a springing within himself, a renewed desire to explore the man entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll talk to him tonight.” It had to be tonight. Julian knew himself well enough to know he’d find a reason not to if he didn’t take action before the day was through. “Before we go to the O’Briens’. But for now…” Julian’s hand hadn’t stopped caressing Data’s chin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that is a good plan, Julian,” said Data, allowing Julian’s gentle pressure to tilt his face upwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Data. Let’s forget about Garak for now. He’s taken up enough of our time this afternoon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that is also a good plan.” Data’s voice was a low rumble and his last words were nearly inaudible as Julian dipped his head and their lips met.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Many, many thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/DHW/pseuds/DHW">DHW</a> for the eyeballs and detailed feedback on this chapter. I had a bit of a sticky problem and appreciate the help so much!</p>
<p>Don't you wish you had an android friend to listen to you and help you with your personal problems? I hope Data's advice to Julian is as good and sound as it seems in their little cuddle nest. Though if it isn't, I guess he and Data can continue their sexy experiments. </p>
<p>I love your comments and kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Data arrives alone, but on time, for dinner at the O'Briens'. Julian's got something to take care of first.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Where’s Julian?” Molly asked, from behind her mother’s leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Molly,” said Data. “Julian has gone to speak to Mr Garak. He does not anticipate being more than ten minutes late, and he sends his apologies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, good, because I have to go to bed in one hour.” Molly held up a finger to indicate ‘one’. “And Julian always colours with me before I go to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can colour with you until Julian arrives, if you wish,” said Data.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly looked doubtful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t that be nice, Molly?” Miles said. “You remember Mr Data, don’t you? Do you remember I told you how Mr Data introduced Mommy and Daddy, back on the Enterprise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly nodded, still a little unwilling to entertain the notions that her parents had at one time been unacquainted or that anything had truly taken place before she’d been born. “Yes,” she said. “And he gave Mommy away at your wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” said Keiko. “Why don’t you go get your paper and crayons and you and Mr Data can draw a nice picture to surprise Julian?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly nodded and retreated to her bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean he’s gone to speak to Garak?” Miles asked. “Finally decided to give him a piece of his mind about how he’s been acting, has he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If by ‘give him a piece of his mind’ you mean that Julian is planning to share his opinion with Mr Garak in an angry fashion, then not precisely, Chief,” said Data, as they settled on the sofa. “However, as Cardassian courtship practices tend to involve performative arguing-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He hasn’t, has he? I’ve told him a million times it’s a bad idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, Data. Do you mean Julian’s finally decided to do something about this whole Garak situation?” Keiko was at the sideboard pouring drinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe so, Keiko,” said Data, accepting a tumbler of whiskey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shite,” said Miles, then looked sheepish when Keiko elbowed him. “Sorry. It’s just...Data, we were sort of hoping that you and Julian might, you know…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miles! That’s…” Keiko turned apologetically to Data. “It’s true. We saw how well you two got along and, well, we love both of you, so naturally we’d have been delighted if you’d gotten together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Data inclined his head. “Thank you, Keiko. I am flattered that you and Miles think so. However, Julian has romantic feelings for Mr Garak that he suspects might be reciprocated-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Might be’,” snorted Miles into his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And so, as Julian has been frustrated with Mr Garak’s lack of initiative, I encouraged him to tell Mr Garak how he feels and to see what might come of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Data…” said Miles. “Don’t you think it would’ve been better to leave well enough alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Data!” said Keiko. “I’m so glad someone was finally able to make him see sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Julian going to marry Mr Garak?” said Molly, who’d come out of the bedroom clutching a ream of paper and a box of crayons to her chest. “Is Mr Data going to give him away?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You never know, Molly. I imagine Data would be happy to do so if he were asked.</p><p>Comments and kudos are better fuel for writers than even chocolate and coffee.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Julian completes step one of his plan. He's very, very brave.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were, remarkably, two florists on DS9, and as Keiko often said, Irril’s, hidden away in a backwards corner on the third level of the Promenade, was the best. It was also the only one of the two still open at this hour, and so it was for these reasons that Julian found himself surveying the entire Promenade from its highest point with a large bunch of blue and white variegated blossoms tucked gently in the crook of one arm. Sweet Sirjas, Irril had told him. Very romantic on Bajor. </p>
<p>The easy part was completed. Julian swallowed. </p>
<p>“Computer, locate Elim Garak.”</p>
<p>“Elim Garak is in Quark’s Bar.”</p>
<p>Right. It was to be a public humiliation, then. Julian resettled the bouquet in his arm, taking care not to let the still-wet stems dampen his uniform (he’d changed into a fresh uniform after a long shower with Data; there had been no time to agonise over which civilian clothes to wear), straightened his back, and strode towards the lift that would take him to Quark’s.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know this is a frustratingly short chapter, but I felt it needed to be there. I'm hoping to have the next one up this weekend, though. Maybe even later today. </p>
<p>Still, I would welcome your comments nonetheless (and kudos too, of course), if you feel moved to say something. I'm not too proud to admit that I value external validation!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Julian confronts Garak in Quarks. In front of everybody. </p><p>This is the second update in two days. I don't intend to update this frequently, but chapter 4 was very short, so I'm posting this one today. If you haven't read yesterday's update, I recommend reading it first.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! I had a short update to this fic only yesterday (chapter 4) so if you missed it, I encourage you to go back and read it before reading this one. It's super short, I promise.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Quark’s was absolutely packed. Of course it was. It was early evening, and near the end of the week, and a payday for the Bajoran crew, if Julian recalled correctly (he did). It was actually crowded enough that the sheer volume of people might nearly have provided a bit of privacy in and of itself, except that, rather than in one of his customary secluded corners on the upper level, Garak was seated at the bar, directly beneath the giant ornamental clock, the focal point of the entire bar, chatting with Quark, Morn, and Rom. Just Julian’s luck. Garak could not have been more front and centre if he’d planned it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. There was nothing to be done. Julian took a deep breath and pushed through the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed like the entire bar turned. Quark and Rom certainly pricked up their ears, and Morn even stopped talking to gape. But Julian was focused on Garak. Who, Julian was pleased to see, had been taken by surprise (if his wide-eyed expression on turning in his barstool was any indication). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He corrected his facial expression quickly, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, Doctor, what an unexpected pleasure,” he said, smooth as creamed yamok sauce. “I thought you were spending the evening with the O’Briens. And your android </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garak, shut up,” said Julian. He stepped into Garak’s personal space and poked him in the chest with the hand that wasn’t occupied with the bunch of blue and white striped blossoms. “And listen. It just so happens I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> spending the evening with them, so I haven’t got much time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garak raised an eyeridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see. And these flowers are for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I suppose. How thoughtful of you to take the time to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garak, I said ‘shut up’.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor, I-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julian didn’t let him finish. “Forget Data. He’s not what I’m here to talk about. I’m interested in you, which I think you also know, and because you’re an absolute plonker who won’t make a move the Cardassian way, or the human way, or any damn way that I can tell, I’ve got to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garak’s mouth had dropped open. Good. It was a good sign. Julian was going to forge ahead, he’d decided, and it was better if Garak didn’t interrupt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were an absolute arse to Data today, and to me, and you had no right or reason to be. I’m sick of it. It’s a good thing I like you a lot, Garak, or I wouldn’t even be speaking to you right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor, I -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garak, did I say you could talk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garak shut up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a grown man and you can’t even tell me that you like me when it’s clear to everyone on the station. It’s ridiculous, Garak, and I’ve had it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alarm shot across Garak’s face, but he didn’t open his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good. Julian was tempted to leave it at that, to walk away and let Garak simmer in doubt for a spell. Just to teach him that he couldn’t treat people like he had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no. Julian was here to complete a task that he’d been putting off for a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, look at the position you’ve put me in. You give me book after book about Cardassian romance, </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can call it that, you show me how to recognise the intricacies, the posturing, enough that I can tell you’ve been interested from day one.” Julian hoped to hell this was true and he hadn’t missed some subtle difference between romance and friendship. (It would be so, so, Cardassian, wouldn’t it?) Nonetheless, he had gone this far. Nothing to do but press on. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> how to show you that I like you back, and I’ve been doing it, but I’m getting nothing from you except insults to my friends. What am I supposed to do, Garak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garak opened his mouth. “Doctor, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” Julian held up his finger. “No. Not a word. I’m tired of your Cardassian posturing. I’m giving you one last chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The relief in Garak’s eyes sparked the same in Julian’s heart. A confirmation that he was on the right track. The doubt that had been weighing on him since he’d entered the bar lifted slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Cardassian way isn’t working.” Julian thrust the flowers into Garak’s arms. “So I’m doing my bit my way. They’re for you, you daft idiot. Giving someone you like flowers is an unambiguous human courtship ritual, which I’m sure you already know. It means I like you. I want to be your boyfriend, or your lover, or whatever that translates to for you. In any case, I’m interested and now you can’t say you didn’t know. You can say you don’t want the same thing, but you can’t say you didn’t know. The ball’s in your court, Garak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garak clutched at the flowers, nearly dropping them. “The ball?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s an expression from tennis. It means it’s your turn to do something. But I’m busy tonight and I’m still really angry at you. And I’m late for dinner.” Julian turned on his heel. “You’ve got my comm code,” he said over his shoulder. “Send me your answer. Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>direct</span>
  </em>
  <span> answer. Yes or no. But not until tomorrow. I don’t even want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about you until then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stalked towards the closest exit, hyper conscious of the distance between it and the bar. And of the silence that had fallen. Not the trickle of the dabo wheel nor the soft tumble of a rogue sand pea falling to the metal grating made a sound. Julian’s heart was racing as he passed through the arched doorway. Once out of sight he checked his chrono. Not seven minutes had passed between buying the flowers and shoving them into Garak’s arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had just enough time to stop at Irril’s and get another bouquet for the O’Briens. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well! Perhaps it wasn't Julian who was publicly humiliated after all! But what do you think Garak's response will be to such a direct and overt display of interest?</p><p>Comments, kudos, arguments, public displays of affection, and speculation all welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Garak gets some advice on his love life.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was Quark, not Garak, who first regained his powers of speech. The school of pure, unadulterated capitalism provides as pitiless an education as any intelligence academy, after all, and Quark’s wit had been forged in this fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, what are you waiting for? Go after him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t want me to,” said Garak, nearly to himself. His eyes followed Julian’s retreating back. He clenched the flowers in his hand, and a few petals fluttered to the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s just what they say,” said Quark, with the authoritative air of an interspecies casanova. “They still expect to be chased.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“IIIII don’t know, brother,” said Rom. “For one thing, that’s just the Ferengi way. Hew-mons don’t like that. For another, Doctor Bashir seemed pretty clear that he didn’t want to hear from Garak until tomorrow.” He turned to Garak. “I don’t think you should tell him until tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morn opened his mouth and was no doubt about to opine on human mating behaviour (his expertise was based mostly on his sister’s husband’s ex-wife, who’d been half-human, and at least the way Morn told it, not a particularly nice half-human at that) when Garak regained his wits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what makes you both so certain I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to give Doctor Bashir any sort of answer?” he sniped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three pairs of eyes told him that he’d badly missed the mark in his attempt to seem unconcerned about the situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Garak,” said Quark. “Come on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve had a crush on him since he arrived on the station,” said Rom. “Practically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morn shrugged and nodded at Rom and quaffed his ale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But maybe Rom’s right.” Quark squinted in the direction Bashir had stalked off. “Don’t go after him tonight. Hew-mons </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> very direct, in their way. If I were you, I’d write him a love poem and send it first thing in the morning. Maybe on paper. I happen to have some fine Delavian scented writing paper. It’s two bars of latinum per ream, but it’s worth it. He’ll know you care if you buy the very best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, brother. I think I might have been wrong, actually.” Rom looked doubtfully down at his root beer. “Doctor Bashir was direct, but he was also really confrontational. That’s not how hew-mons act when they’re in love with somebody. I think he was trying to be more Cardassian, and if he was…” Rom bit his lip. “Garak, I think you should go after him. Scream at him in the turbolift. I can arrange for it to get stuck for a little while, if you like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gentlemen,” said Garak, “I truly appreciate your interest in my love life.” He did not. “But Doctor Bashir is not ‘in love’ with me. It’s a passing fancy of his, nothing more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time Rom was the first to speak. “He might be. He certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>likes</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, Garak. You both like each other. A lot. What have you got to lose? Now, I mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer to that had always been ‘the friendship and esteem of the only person on this station who thinks I’m worth spending time with’, but Rom’s question threw that into stark focus. Bashir’s friendship and esteem might have been lost already, with Garak’s foolish jealous behaviour earlier today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mean you think he doesn’t love you because he sleeps around?” Quark’s crude question brought Garak’s other concern into focus. That was it exactly. “What do you expect, Garak? He’s hew-mon, you know. Sluts of the Alpha Quadrant. That’s what they do, especially if they’re single, attractive, and have a good job. Of course he has his fun. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t keep it in his pants for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lots of hew-mons are monogamous. Look at the O’Briens,” offered Rom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My brother’s right,” said Quark. “Hew-mons are flexible. Adaptable. A different female - or male,” he nodded at Garak, “every night, then, BAM! They meet the right person and they’re as loyal as love slugs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rom nodded sagely. “But you have to ask. A hew-mon won’t be monogamous until you’ve asked him. You can’t expect them to behave like Cardassians.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Until you can,” said Quark. “I’ve changed my mind again. Go after him, Garak. I think he’s trying to prove to you that he can be Cardassian when he wants to be. Rom’s right, hew-mons </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> get confrontational to show their love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was that word again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Love. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Since when were Ferengi so sentimental?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But maybe he really was angry about something, brother. What did you do to Commander Data, Garak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor Bashir doesn’t get angry, Rom. He’s a Gerealian pussycat. It was all an act. Garak, go after him. But maybe write him something too. Since I’m a romantic at heart, I’ll sell you that writing paper for a bar and two slips.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure Doctor Bashir gets angry, brother. He was furious at you when he found out you were selling homeopathic birth control.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pffffft! The Federation and their </span>
  <em>
    <span>medical regulations</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Quark waved his hand dismissively. “It worked! He just didn’t like me cutting into his business. Anyway, this is different. Garak, I think-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Quark, Rom.” Garak gathered his strength of will and his flowers. “Your advice is much appreciated, but these won’t last much longer out of water. I’m going home. Good evening, gentlemen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garak bowed to the chorus of returned ‘good evenings’ and left, striding with a confidence he didn’t feel to a location he hadn’t yet decided. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Doctor wish him to do? If he did the wrong thing, how bad would that be? Garak was unused to feeling this uncertain about his actions. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew what to do. What could possibly guide him in these uncharted waters? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ummmmmm, Garak, wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a testament to Garak’s distressed state that Rom took him by surprise, but he managed (he hoped) as he turned to face him, to conceal it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” A tendril of hope unfurled in Garak’s chest. Rom’s flaws were many, but no one could deny the man had a great deal of emotional intelligence. If Rom had any suggestions, Garak could do worse than to consider them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter what you do. I mean, if you do something hew-mon or Cardassian. Or if you follow him now or wait until tomorrow like he said.” Rom’s lip wrinkled in concentration. “He just wants you to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Instead of nothing like you have been for ages.” Rom spat the last bit out forcefully, then started and widened his eyes upon realising he might have overstepped. “Uhhhhh. If you feel that way back, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Rom.” Could he have a point? Yes, he very well could. “You may be correct.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I may?” Rom, who had been staring at the floor, looked up in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you may. Good evening.” Garak gave Rom a nod and set off briskly, a destination now firmly in mind.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>God, I love writing Quark and Rom. They are so good together. Give them a problem, any problem, and they'll sort it out (not necessarily well, but they will sort it out). </p><p>Comments, kudos, and speculation are very encouraged! What would you advise Garak to do? Are you a Quark or a Rom? Or a Morn?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After Julian confronts Garak in Quark's, Garak (and his bouquet of flowers) decide what to do.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Irril’s Beautiful Blossoms was still open at this hour and had enough of a selection that it took Julian longer than he’d intended to choose flowers that he thought Keiko (and Miles) might appreciate. So he had just paid and said good evening to Irril and turned to go when he caught sight of Garak, creeping cautiously around the curve of the Promenade, bouquet of Sweet Sirjas cradled carefully in one arm. Garak’s eyes lit on Julian, standing by the florist’s kiosk with his own bunch of flowers, and his step quickened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though by rights he should be angry that Garak wasn’t following his instruction to stay incommunicado until the next day, Julian’s heart leapt. Garak was reacting! He’d understood. Probably. In truth Julian  hadn’t given himself enough time to understand exactly what he’d wanted from the interaction. For Garak to have listened and not contacted Julian until morning was what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> want, but Julian wasn’t sure he would really have been able to stand waiting all night to see if his ploy had worked. And it had been a ploy, hadn’t it? A dare to take action. The timing didn’t really matter. He had just wanted Garak to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And now here Garak was, clearly about to. Do something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garak came closer, looking increasingly determined. “Doctor,” he said, drawing very near indeed to Julian, “I believe we have something to discuss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Julian felt like beaming, but he shoved the urge away and arranged his face into what he hoped was an annoyed expression. He couldn’t let Garak just get away with approaching him here and now, could he? Not when he’d been expressly told to wait until tomorrow. That wouldn’t be correct in this sort of situation whether one’s suitor were human or Cardassian.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s you,” he said crisply. “I don’t know what we could possibly have to discuss right now. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten what I said.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garak raised his eye ridges. “No,” he said, after the briefest moment. He took a half step back. “I haven’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The most awkward of heavy silences fell. Irril kindly busied himself sweeping plant cuttings at the far end of the kiosk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Julian wondered if he should stalk off again at this point. No. Surely it was too late? Surely he should have done it immediately after addressing Garak or not at all? And wasn’t one dramatic departure enough? Julian Bashir didn’t normally do drama, and so considered himself no expert, but two stroppy exits in one evening seemed unimaginative at best. It was time for another tactic. He nodded at the flowers in Garak’s arm. “You know Irril doesn’t take returns. And anyway, they were a gift, so it’s rude of you to even try.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garak’s eyes flashed, blue to match the blooms in his arms. “You’re one to talk about rudeness, Doctor. Accosting me in public and forcing an unwanted gift on me? I’d been looking forward to a pleasant evening relaxing at Quark’s and now I’m obliged to interrupt my plans in order to take these ragged weeds home so they don’t die. Did you even consider that I might not own an appropriate vase for them? I can see by the shocked expression on your face that you did not. Typical, Doctor Bashir, of you to be so inconsiderate.” Garak’s last words were venomous. His eyes were unblinking and he seemed a coil of tension, ready to strike should Julian say anything but the right thing. Was this just normal Cardassian courtship? Julian knew the back-and-forth could be pointed when Cardassians got really serious, but this vicious? It seemed ten times as sharp as their little jabs over lunch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Julian opened his mouth to retaliate, but hesitated. What if Garak really was furious with him? Could he be jeopardizing, or have already jeopardized, one of his most treasured relationships? Garak had been behaving like an absolute wanker, and something had needed to be said, but public humiliation? For someone as jealous of his privacy as Garak? It had been a step too far. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Garak, I…” he began, and swallowed. His face felt hot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Doctor!” Garak’s icy, hard expression melted, to be replaced with a soft gaze of such concern that Julian wondered if he’d looked like he’d been ready to cry. Garak brushed Julian’s cheek softly with his free hand. “My dear, dear Doctor. I do apologise. You began so well at Quark’s, and just now, that I thought you’d quite be able to handle it.” He placed his hand on Julian’s upper arm. “And in my defense, you were quite provocative. If you were a Cardassian, well...but we can do this the human way. You’re quite entitled to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Relief flooded Julian’s chest. “We can do this whichever way you like,” he said, attempting to suppress the smile he felt threatening to spread over his face. He was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dammit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Garak tilted his head, and his entreating smile told Julian his own efforts to maintain a stoney face were not meeting with much success. “I would like to do this the human way, Doctor, if that is acceptable to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no point in trying to stop it, really. Julian was grinning like a fool, he was certain. But, then, so was Garak. “That’s fine with me," Julian said. "Go ahead.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What is Garak's idea of 'doing this the human way'? They'll never get it sorted out, will they? At least, not without Julian being appallingly late for dinner.</p>
<p>Comments and kudos are like the most bountiful bouquets from the best florist on the station!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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